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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29013774">Playing God</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyhoneyjo/pseuds/honeyhoneyjo'>honeyhoneyjo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, M/M, does this count as fix-it?, idk it gave me closure</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:26:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29013774</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyhoneyjo/pseuds/honeyhoneyjo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Our dadsona still hasn't given Joseph a "yes" or "no" answer to his offer.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joseph Christiansen/Dadsona</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Playing God</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>so i played dream daddy and i was having so much fun and then joseph decided to rip my heart out so i wrote this as revenge. fuck you joseph, i hope your wife leaves you and fucks me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>In the picture I’m packing, Amanda’s father and I are caught in a brief moment of rest. Alex is resting his head on my stomach, and I’m smiling, content. Amanda must’ve snuck a photo of us while we weren’t looking. I look at the back. It’s dated two months before he passed. For some reason, it doesn’t seem to hurt as much as it used to. Maybe I’ve grown a bit desensitized to romance since Joseph’s offer.</p>
<p>I still haven’t given him a “yes” or “no” answer. Actually, I’ve been avoiding him as much as I can. Since Amanda’s graduation, he’s hosted many a barbecue, but I can’t seem to bring myself to go. I’ve even caught myself sneaking out of parties at the other dads’ houses. I know I should be more sociable, especially since Amanda’s leaving, but I can’t bring myself to even be within 10 feet of him. Mary’s death glares don’t help matters much. Every time she sees me, she seems to drape herself over his arm and become ten times more affectionate than she normally is. I would be as surprised as anyone else if I didn’t know exactly why this was happening. Even Joseph seems a bit confused. The only other ones who don’t seem surprised are Robert and Damien. Damien still talks to me, albeit only when necessary, and his tone is always cool and just a bit too polite. Robert won’t even look at me. He… </p>
<p>I don’t want to think about Robert right now. Instead, I shake my head, and focus on wrapping the framed photo carefully in bubble wrap. I gently put it in the box labeled “PERSONAL” in big, bold letters with red marker. Inside are other photos, stuffed animals, and a string of fairy lights that Amanda insisted were necessary. I close the top, and tape it shut. </p>
<p>I take a moment to look around my daughter’s old bedroom, the floor covered in boxes. Even though it looks like her drawers and closet have exploded, the room feels strangely empty. Maybe it’s because Amanda’s missing. She’s been making the rounds, saying goodbye to everyone in the neighborhood. She asked if I wanted to go, but I made an excuse about packing. In all honesty, I’ve been packing and repacking the same box for about an hour. </p>
<p>I hear the doorbell ring, and I’m so relieved to be able to stop packing and repacking and wallowing, that I don’t even consider who could be at the door. I run to the door, maneuvering around boxes and small furniture items we have yet to put in the moving van, and throw it open.</p>
<p>“Hey, neighbor.”</p>
<p>I’m immediately met with the familiar scent of the sea and baked goods. There’s the golden minister himself; the one who I’ve been so desperate to avoid. Joseph looks as put-together as always, perfectly styled hair, blue cardigan tied around his shoulders, and a wide smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s holding a small plastic bag, which is filled with brownies.</p>
<p>“Amanda’s not here,” is what immediately falls out of my mouth, just as I’ve rehearsed. “I can take the brownies and tell her you were here.”</p>
<p>I go to reach for the baggie and close the door, but Joseph manages to pull his arm away with a laugh. “Now, hold on. I would love to give these to Amanda myself. I’ll wait here.”</p>
<p>He pushes past me, and starts making his way around the living room, snooping around and looking at all the boxes. This has to be a trap. I slowly shut the door, and I can’t help but feel like I’m closing my own casket lid. I go to the kitchen, which is connected to the living room. Even though I’ve been avoiding him for weeks now, I don’t want to let him out of my sight now that he’s here. I try to make myself look busy, washing the same mug over and over. The silence is awkward and I wish I could say something, but I <em> don’t </em>wanna talk to hiiiiiim. The best I can do is rewash this mug over and over and hope that he goes away right now, please.</p>
<p>“So, how have you been?”</p>
<p>Keep it short and simple. Cool, and a bit too polite. Like how Damien talks to me. </p>
<p>“Fine, thanks.”</p>
<p>His smile doesn’t go away, but he seems to deflate a bit. Yeah, you don’t have a right to my life story, buster.</p>
<p>“It must be difficult, with Amanda leaving. When are you driving her to school?”<br/>Please stop talking to me.</p>
<p>“Tonight.”</p>
<p>The one-to-two word responses seem to be doing the trick, and I can’t help but feel like I’m winning this conversation. I catch the briefest of frowns on his stupid, perfect face, but it quickly goes away and he clasps his hands together. “I saw Amanda in front of Brian’s house on the way over here. She and Daisy were hugging and crying. She’s left a pretty big impact on everyone here.”</p>
<p>I start scrubbing the mug with a new vigor. “She hasn’t gone to your house yet, then?” He shakes his head. “Then why didn’t you just wait for her to come over? She’ll probably stop by to say goodbye to the kids.”</p>
<p>Gotcha. The smile fully falls off his face, and he looks surprised. “Well, to be honest, I wanted to see you.”</p>
<p>I drop the mug in the sink, and it makes a loud “BANG” as it lands. This wasn’t in the script. Instead of looking at him, I just stare at the mug. “Why?” is all I can manage to say. I hear his footsteps come closer, but I can’t seem to move. Why can’t I move? I can feel him right behind me. Please, please, please let me move.</p>
<p>He’s so close behind me I can feel his breath on my neck. “You know why,” he whispers. He’s right. I do know why. But it’s easier to pretend.</p>
<p>I step to the side, pushing him back in the process. “I don’t,” I say. I don’t want to play his game, but he’s pulled me in.</p>
<p>He chuckles, and the sound is deep and reverbs in my head. “Ok. We’ll pretend.” He backs away, and goes to sit at the counter. “I’m sure you remember our night on the yacht.”</p>
<p>Asshole. How could I forget?</p>
<p>“And if you remember that, then I’m sure you remember your own daughter’s graduation party, and our little…discussion.” His smile is back in full force. It’s almost blinding, but I refuse to look away. “And if you remember our discussion, then you must remember my offer. And, I hope you know, that it still stands.”</p>
<p>Dick. “I thought I told you that secret relationships aren’t really my thing,” I say.</p>
<p>He laughs. “Oh, darling, it would barely count as a secret. You know, I wasn’t exactly discrete when I talked to you at the party.”</p>
<p>He’s got a point. He literally kissed my neck in public, where everyone could see. Granted, most people had left, and everyone else was either cleaning or slowly making their way towards the gate. But there were still people there. Including his own wife. </p>
<p>Fuck. His wife.</p>
<p>“What about Mary?”</p>
<p>He freezes. “Mary…understands.” He doesn’t sound as confident as he did five seconds ago.</p>
<p>I go in for the attack. “What’s to understand? Her husband is sleeping with another guy. Seems pretty simple to me.”</p>
<p>He’s mad, now. Or as mad as Joseph can get. “Mary knows how I feel about her, and how I feel about others. Who knows, you may end up being best friends.”</p>
<p>Robert. He warned me about what would happen. And I still chose Joseph. God, that was stupid. </p>
<p>“Look. I don’t want to be your mistress, or whatever. You can’t have a bunch of- of <em>consorts</em>, or whatever. You’re not a fucking god,” I say, finally letting my anger get the best of me. “You think it’s okay to hurt people, to hurt <em>me</em>. I have a kid who needs me-”</p>
<p>Joseph scoffs. “Oh, please, she’s going to college. She doesn’t need <em>you</em> anymore.”</p>
<p>I balk. He seems to realize what he said, and pales. “That’s not what I meant-”</p>
<p>“So, if Amanda doesn’t need me, then that’s just an excuse for me to go running to you?” My words are oddly cool compared to just a moment ago. “You know, I have other people who care about me-”</p>
<p>“I know you do-”</p>
<p>“I have Craig, and Hugo, and all the other dads in this cul-de-sac-”</p>
<p>“Except for Robert and Damien-”</p>
<p>“That’s your fault-”</p>
<p>“Except for me-"</p>
<p>“That’s your fucking fault!” I scream. He goes silent. I try to calm myself down. “Robert told me this would happen. I should’ve listened to him.” I laugh, bitter. “Goes to show what love can do to an idiot.”</p>
<p>Joseph runs up to me, and I don’t have time to move out of the way before he grasps my hands. “You are <em> not </em> an idiot. You are beautiful.” He gets down on his knees, still holding on. He doesn’t look at me. “I love you, okay? I wish I could be with you. Fully. I know it’s a rough deal. But I have to be the example. I have people who look up to me. I have to show them what a good Christian looks like-”</p>
<p>“Good Christians can break the norm,” I point out.</p>
<p>He shakes his head. “It’s not the same for me, and you know it. Please.” Is he…begging? “Please, I- I need you. I love you.”</p>
<p>He finally looks up. I can’t help but study his face. His strong jaw. His sharp nose. The desperate pout of his lips. He’s looking at me like I’m his god.</p>
<p>And then I see his eyes. The lack of crows feet. The ambitious glint. The way the curve of his mouth never goes past his nose.</p>
<p>I am not a god. And I won’t let him be one either.</p>
<p>I look away. “Get out.”</p>
<p>The look falls away. “Well.” He lets go of my hands and stands. He puts the bag of brownies on the counter. “Can’t say I didn’t try.” And just like that, he’s gone.</p>
<p>I fall to the ground just as the door slams shut. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. I want to run after him. Like, really badly. </p>
<p>And so I do. I run to the door and throw it open, just to see Amanda standing there. She looks confused, her hand half-way to the doorknob. “Dad? What’s wrong?” she asks. </p>
<p>It’s only when she says that I feel a wetness on my face. Have I been crying? I quickly wipe away my tears. “Just imagining my sad, lonely life without you. You know, you were my only gateway to a social life,” I say, hoping that my attempt at a joke is enough to get her off the scent. </p>
<p>It seems to have worked, because she smiles. “Oh no, how will you survive? I guess you’ll just have to do things by yourself now,” she says. </p>
<p>“Noooo, social interaction!” She laughs, and so do I. “How did your goodbyes go?”</p>
<p>“Good, I think. Daisy and I both cried on her porch for ten minutes. Then Brian started crying, and everything just sort of fell apart from there.” She notices the baggie of brownies. “Hey, brownies! Did Joseph drop these off?”</p>
<p>I can feel the blood drain from my face, and my stomach starts churning. “How’d you know Joseph was here?” I try not to make it sound too accusatory.</p>
<p>“Saw him leaving right before you opened the door. Also, I didn’t see him at his place. Did you hear that Mary’s kicking him out?”</p>
<p>I scoff. “I thought that she already did that and he came back.”</p>
<p>“No, not that time. This time it’s for real. She told me so herself,” she says, her mouth full of brownie. “Apparently she’s gonna make him get a divorce. She said, and I quote, ‘This time, I’m holding to it.’”</p>
<p>My stomach suddenly stops its churning, and my heart drops. It all makes a lot more sense now. He wanted to show off. Make me feel guilty. He couldn’t have just told me that he and Mary were getting a divorce. Not when it would make things easier. It all has to be on his terms. Things are falling apart, so he came over here to play god. I can’t tell if he won or lost his game.</p>
<p>I decide I’m better off not knowing.</p>
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